Glued to the problem
by A-Simple-Nobody-Ft-The-Beatles
Summary: After finding this trainwreck on my rly old deviantart account, I'm bringing it over here, old chapters NOT remastered, new chapters going who knows where -"John and George eat some magic cookies, do stupid shit and piss everyone off. Oh and dead stalkers and magical managers. Everyone wants John's ass."
1. Chapter 1: John just wants to fucc

Today John was feeling particularly adventurous. Princess Paulie had made them do 13, 13 bloody takes just for one new song they were recording and let us say, the rest weren't really happy about it. Imagine 5 more songs like that, pure torture if you ask John. But then again, nobody asked him anything these days. Ringo, a good little fucker as always, didn't say anything, just rolled his eyes a couple of times. George, after 7th take ganged up with John, spittin' nasty words in a perfect harmony with his mate. He grew a pair over the years, John noted.

After the 3 painfully annoying hours John decided to get himself a bird and a drink to get his mind of the recording and the upcoming movie. They never had a fucking break and he was sick of Paul's constant complaining. Apparently, he wasn't the only one.

Little Georgie looked like he could kill something.

-Ay' mate, wanna go fer a drink? You look like you could use one.-John smirked as his eyes met with another death glare

-Sod off.- George muttered but John could see he was considering it. -Where are we going?-John patted the younger's back lightly and grinned, this was easy.-Don't know. Anywhere I suppose.

George rose up from the place where he was seated on, gently putting his guitar on it and moving across the room, to where John was. The older man waved to the rest who just returned him tired looks, not really paying attention and caring. Two mates exited the studio casually and continued down the road, into the unknown.

-John, where to now?-the younger one asked, bearing a worried expression on his face. He thought the older guitarist had a plan, or at least hoped so, he really didn't fancy getting lost here. They stopped for a moment, just letting the light wind hit them as John debated with himself over the question. He didn't really know where, actually, just wanted a good drink and a shag. But he couldn't tell George that, the lad would freak out. So he settled for an easier way out.

-Where do you want to go, son?-he questioned, begging George to say something, anything.

-You don't know where to go John, do you?-

-Nah mate, jus' asking if you have somethin' better on your mind, is all.-He stated bluntly, putting on a fake smile. George could read him like a book and John mentally cursed himself for thinking he could trick him.

-Fine, I kinda wanted to go to one of those carnivals here, what do you think?-a glint of happiness was evident in the hazel eyes, now hopefully looking at John's dark brown ones.

-A carny, eh? You really are a child Georgie.-John smiled gleefully at his now pissed of mate.

-I'm not a child! I juss' thought it would be fun you git!- he hissed, annoyed by the older bloke. If this is how it's gonna be the whole day, he wasn't interested. -Jesus George, calm down, I was just kiddin' with ya mate. Sure, I suppose we can go, maybe we can get some birds there too, eh son?- George just signed in annoyance and pointed at direction of the fair.

-Lets go.-

Two shadows slowly started moving again, the taller one walking slower than the other, smoking in peace while the younger one, occasionally jumping out of happiness, continued staring at the ground. Those were pure moments, without tension and negativity, the kind that embraces you in a warm silence, protects you and doesn't lie. They both walked beside each other, sharing the feeling of numbness in silence, only registering presence of the other. It was perfect, they were just two blokes going to a carnival, no fame, just John and George, two lads from Liverpool. For John, the words weren't needed really, noise was the last thing he wanted and he knew George knew that. They walked in silence till they reached the fair.

Come on John!- George shouted happily between fast munches of candy in his hands, the lad high on adrenaline after spending the whole day on the fair. The clear bright blue sky was now replaced with a softly pink colored one and it's blood red sun. People were already getting to their homes, but John was stuck here with his mate, or should he say child? George just didn't stop. He already tried out all the rides here, and food...and he dragged John through the whole process. He doesn't know how many times has he heard the line: 'Just this one more, John. We are going after that, promise!' and he stopped hoping for it to come true. It wasn't like he wasn't having fun, but he was getting tired and just wanted to go home, get in his bed and let the dream world take him.

-George, didn't we have enough already?-John glared at the younger bloke.

-No John, we have enough money just for this one!- his long thin finger pointed at a tall colorful Ferris wheel near some shops. Guitarist rolled his eyes and headed to the ride, at least this really was the last one, but damn, that thing was tall! He didn't really have a problem with it, but he knew Georgie would have one later.

-Hello lads, want to take a ride?- a small man asked when they arrived. It was even bigger from this distance.

-Yeah, two tickets please.- They took seats next to each other in one of the transporters.

-Eh Georgie, why did you pick this one? You know what people do in these, don't ya?- John asked with an amused grin plastered on his face.

-Ugh...what?-He replied, visibly confused by John's words.

-Snog Georgie boy.-he whispered sweetly into younger's ear. The skinny lad jumped nearly a mile at this, throwing daggers at John, clearly pissed off. -D-Don't say thi-ings like that!- he uttered, his face getting warm from embarrassment. It was clear that he didn't plan for that but his reaction was priceless, John mused.

-Give us a kiss, eh son?- he said with a mischievous smirk glued to his face. George already had his hands weakly in front of him, a form of a shield forming around him. -Fuck off, you queer.- he muttered, a hint of amusement ringing in his voice, making the older man snicker quietly. -I thought you loved m-!- John just made his way back to his seat when their transporter reached the highest point of the big wheel and stopped with a violent shake.

-Gah!- a tiny raw scream escaped Georges mouth as he squeezed John's hand in a desperate grip and brought their bodies next to each other tightly, fear covering his eyes. John would have laughed at the sight but a burning feeling of disgust was spreading from the closeness between him and his skinny mate. Despite his teasing, queers always bothered him and this situation right now was making him sick.

-Mate, uh...we aren't going to crash or nothin'...so could you, ugh...- he started, his voice raspy and quiet. George seemed to have snapped out of his trance and now was stumbling to the other end of the cabin, his face beet red.

-I'm sorry John...-he squeaked and turned away, admiring the sight outside and avoiding the older's gaze. The rest of the ride was spent in tension-filled silence, both parties gazing through different windows, marveling New York's night scenery.  
Their feet touched the ground again. What was that just now? Where did all this tension come from? Why was George acting so strange now...and moving so fucking fast?!

-Oi mate I don't bite! Slow down!- John shouted in vain, the lad already escaping his eye range by turning right, towards the exit. The older man started running now, his feet gently landing on the fluffy grass beneath him. He was just about to reach George when a faint raspy voice called him.

 _Child, come_. The invite was ringing in his head, right there in the middle of it, words crashing in it, making him grit his teeth and turn around. The source, much to John's displeasure, was an old wrinkled lady behind one of the carnivals' stands, the sign saying ''Home-cooked sweets''. Something about it was so alluring and tempting that his legs gave in, walking him to the mysterious place. George had, John noted, turned back, now getting closer with his hands in pockets and eyes glued to the ground.

-Did you just...?-

-Do you want to try some of my sweets child?- the old sent him a weak smile.

-Uh...we don't have any money...- John supplied.

-No matter dear, you can get some free, you look like a nice man.- the elder was now looking at George with curious eyes.-What a 'bout you child?- she asked.

-I'm fine, thanks.- he replied, his gaze still focused on the cold rocks.  
The woman, her eyes looking between two men, snickered quietly at the mood.-I've got just what you two need.-she gestured towards two deep-brown cookies on her left. The tag in front said 'binding sweet' which made John crack up, his laugh tearing the thick silence and tension around them.

-Oh god, Georgie come see this shit!- Name's owner tensed at the sound but quickly made his way to the presented thing.

-Eh, wanna biiiiind with me?- John teased using his best seductive voice and batting his eyelashes at his mate. George returned him a very digested look and turned his focus back to the old lady.  
-I am sorry, but why are these cookies named like this?-

-Ah, well, they are magic of course! They bind people and their emotions together so they can overcome any issues concerning them. It only brings two humans together if at least one of them has special feelings. The effects of the sweets are different for everyone.- this was the trigger.

-O-Oh god...th-his is priceless, magic...magic George!- John was now losing his balance due to a laughing fit he was having and had to support himself by resting on George's shoulder. -Do you believe this? Oh Jesus fucking Christ, this is nuts!-

-I don't know John, maybe w- he was stopped by the older bloke's hand, now eagerly rising to the sweets level.

-We'll take them!- He cried out in hysteria, not noticing the scared look on his mate's eyes.

-Very well. Have a pleasant night children.- she smiled as the two bodies started moving again, the bigger one going faster than the other. Oh, this is going to be fun.  
-Wait till we show these to the lads, they are gonna flip! Magic, eh?-

-John, I don't know...are they really safe?- George asked, fear evident in his tone, making him swallow a lump in his throat.

-Aww, is little Georgie scared?- he asked in a child voice, teasing. Oh god, he loved torturing his little mate. He knew it was wrong and that he needed to stop but couldn't, guitarists reactions always making him snicker.

-Am not. But think 'bout it John, she gave them to us for free. The could be poisonous or somethin'.-

-Don't be like that George. It's not like all that magic talk is real. All rubbish if ya ask me.

The arguing lasted till they reached the hotel, John ready to surprise his bandmates, and maybe scare the shit out of them. Paul would probably just fuss over them getting out and not telling anyone when they were getting back. Ringo, naive lad he is, would try asking so many questions so non would get out and he would just stare at them, fascinated.

Oh, how he was right. John knew what to expect, but somehow he was secretly hoping for a greater reaction. After George has told every bloody detail about their day(purposely leavin' out the last ride which made John confused) they decided, well everyone beside the youngest lad, that it was a good time for them to try out the cookies.

-Ah lads, maybe there should be a magic ritual or something. So it works?- John suggest with a sly grin on his face, knowing he would get full support from them. _Ok, maybe not George, but..._

-A ritual eh?- Paul said, amusement all over his baby-face.

-Uh mates...- George tried weakly, tired of everything.

-Come on lad, give me your hand.- they linked their fingers together and John silenced the rest. George's hand was warm, soft...what?! Focus John, focus! He dismissed the moment's craziness and turned his head towards the younger's one. George's cheeks were getting a nice shade of red, probably in anger, John thought. His gaze was set firmly on the floor, eyes not visible under dark hair.

-Well alright then, better start before Georgie here falls asleep- No reaction, nothing.-By god's and witch's power I summon magic to these cookies. Let them biiiind me and Georgie boy and shit.- At the end of John's bloody fantastic speech, as he called it, Paul and Ringo started counting to three.

One...

Two...

Three!

Both males opened their mouths and ate the sweet. And then they waited.  
Well that was stupid. John didn't feel any different! He had secretly hoped for something, magic. What a let down. He threw a glance at George for a second, scanning the younger lad. His mate was surprised, poor sod, actually thinking something would happen. Now he sounded like a hypocrite.

-Well that was a waste of time.- he said, a hint of disappointment lingering in the air.

-George, ya don't feel anything, eh?- John asked, but after several moments of silence he was getting angry. About George, his lack of words, lack of reaction.

Silence.

Fists clenching.

Anger.

-Bloody hell John, I know you are a cunt sometimes, but that just crossed the line!- George exploded suddenly, fists in the air now, ready to strike. The rest of the eyes in the room winded at the outburst. What the hell?! -I'm not a queer or a scared little baby, or any of the things you said!- He continued, his face twisting into a nasty grimace.

-I didn't say anything like that, Jesus Christ George, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?!- John fought back, surprised. _Did he...read me mind? He didn't mean any of those stuff, they just kinda surfaced. But how did he?..._

-He really didn't say anything mate.- Paul fended, confused. Ringo just stared. George wasn't showing any signs of stopping anytime soon.

-What do you mean, you didn't? Heard it ringin' in me head, loud and clear! Did it just suuurface?- he was getting louder and louder. What the...

-George...-he tried.

-No...it couldn't be...it can't be John...I heard you...- he was now shaking, covering his ears maniacally. -Hey mate, calm down and tell me what's wrong- Ringo whispered softly, now next to the sobbing lad. -I...I can hear him Ritchie...I hear him...-

-Who?-

-Me, he can hear me thoughts.- John spoke up. _This is bloody insane! Was this because of the cookies?_ If so, why couldn't he hear George's thoughts? He wasn't feeling anything, why?

-Oh god...- Paul and Ringo gasped in union. This was too much for them.

-We can't be sure till we try it George, come here.- John ordered sharply. The lead guitarist made his way to the center of the room, still shaking. The rest of the band was just standing there numbly, too confused to move or speak. -So, it's simple really, I think about somethin' and you say what that is.-

-Fine.-

This is nuts.

-This is nuts.- George said slowly. John tried to stay calm. _Could have been a lucky guess..._

-It's not, I heard it in me head.-

-Fuck...-John cursed under his breath. How long is this going to last? Forever? How is he supposed to work with George if he was able to read his mind?  
-Ok fellas, I am knackered. Come on, we should all hit the beds, we will talk about this tomorrow.- You could always count on Ringo to break the tension.

-Yeah, fine, night mates.- John just wanted some sleep, no George or magic or any of this shit. He slowly started moving towards the room he shared with Paul, his bed calling for him. Just as he was about to reach the door knob, an unbelievable pain made him collapse to the ground, his vision getting blurry. He cried out in agony, the pain spreading through his body, eating away any atom of power he had. Paul, Ringo and George were already on their feet when John shouted, running to help him. He wasn't that far from them, so they were quick to reach him. The first one to reach him was Paul, his eyes full of fear and horror. Following him were the lead guitarist and the drummer, both scared for the man on the floor who was tearing his throat with desperate screams.

And then it stopped. It was like nothing John felt before, the tight line between life and death, waiting for him to fall into the dark abyss. He was so close...and then he wasn't.

Something pulled him out. Just a simple touch, taking away all his pain, replacing it with pleasure and warmness. Safety. The shouting died down, and he was left gasping for breath. He even tried standing up, but a pair of firm hands kept him on the ground. He could even hear faint voices around him, calling out for him.

-John!- voices echoed in his head.

-Jesus mate, are ya alright?!- so distant.

-John...what's wrong?- there it was. The voice so different from the others, so soft and reassuring, protecting him from the world.  
He was looking blankly at his savior when something else caught his attention. He turned to the person whose hands were around him, recognizing the long eyelashes and a wide grin. Paul. He too, smiled at the bassist and said quietly:

-Paulie, take me to bed, eh son?-

-Fine, come on John, let me help you stand up.-

-Oh, always there to help me Paul?- he grabbed his mate's sleeve and with a little help got on his feet. What was that sudden pain? What caused it? All this magic stuff was giving him a headache! And why the fuck did George's touch make it go away?

-It did?- George asked curiously.

-I suppose, I don't know anymore.-

-Well, let's put you to sleep John.- Paul urged. They stumbled to their beds, John stepping on Paul's feet every now and then. Ringo and George were just making their way to the room when the world went black. With a loud thud George's head hit the ground, the sound of his jaw connecting with the floor echoing in the apartment. The screams died down with his conscienceless, darkness surrounding him.


	2. Chapter 2: George and the Beast (Ringo)

_Shadows._

 _People._

 _Darkness._

 _What is this place? A young soul was standing in the middle of a street, surrounded by grey. Everywhere, where ever you turn, bodies without eyes, grey, darkness covering every inch of the town, grey, a faint light in the distance not enough._

 _'Am I dead? I do not remember dying, just falling asleep, my eyes suddenly feeling really heavy, begging me to close them. So who was I to refuse? No, who was I?' The silhouette examined his cloths, trying to find sense in this madness. He found himself being a man, and a skinny one for that. Still, no name. Nothing._

 _He was a body without a purpose. A speck of dust, lost, nowhere to go...or return. Yet, he had a nagging feeling in the back of his head, a silent voice telling him something he couldn't quite classify as words, just another sound reminding him he was alone._

 _He lowered himself to a pool of sand in front of him and started scribbling something mindlessly with his finger. First thing was an instrument, that much he could tell. Not just any instrument, something told him it was a guitar. An item worth of praise, he thought. But why did he draw it, of all the other things? Never-mind._

 _Second drawing was a face, rough edges, sharp-tipped nose and lush lips. He wondered who that was. A friend? An enemy? Something about the man was so alluring he could have sworn he heard the secret voice rise at the image. John._

 _The voice said,_

 _-John.-_

 _It was such a weak sound that the soul thought about dismissing it, but the name sounded so familiar, almost comforting, for him to do so._  
 _The man was getting impatient now, his inability to solve his own problems angering him._

 _'Well I sure ain't gonna help meself by playing in the sand!' He continued walking. Nowhere. 'Well I guess I should head for that light.' The ground was crumbling beneath him, thick fog only giving away his destination._

 _As he was walking the subject of the drawings bothered him on many different levels. 'Who is John? Is he a guitar player? Am I? Was he my friend? Or maybe a lover?' The man found himself blushing at the thought. 'Nonsense! I would never go for a man...he did seem like a handsome bloke...what am I saying?! Focus!'_

 _Crack._

 _Soul's head snapped at the direction from which the sound came. An unknown feeling was spreading through his body, making him shiver. Fear. His hands were in the air, fits forming a weak shield in front of him._  
 _There, in the darkness, something was making its way towards him._

 _Roar!_

 _The noise ripped through the air, like a thunder, ripping the man's ear drums out. Panic was now surging in his veins, adrenalin making him tremble. This was the end. There was not much to end, the man mused, but even nothing is something, in a relative way._

 _A shadow was now clearly visible in front of him, the beast smaller, but it's claws bigger than his head. The creature was dragging them beside it's body, the killing weapon making and unpleasant noise at the touch._  
 _And then it did something, or rather, it said something._

 _-Hullo!-_

 _The beast, now under the light, could be identified. A lion. Shit! He opened his muzzle, yawning and showing his huge set of sharp teeth, all nicely placed and ready to kill. The man shivered._

 _-Well lad, don't you speak? Cat got your tongue?- lion grinned at the joke, emitting a pleased growl. What is wrong with this beast? Isn't he going to attack? The soul muttered a low 'No' and shook his head._

 _-Well, what are ya doing here, in me territory? I could have eaten you by now, you know?- another devious grin. The overgrown cat was lazily coming closer to the man, swaying his body in a playful matter. He is playing with me!_

 _-Umm, I didn't know I was passing through your, er, territory. I was just following the light.- he pointed at the shining orb in the distance._

 _-Oh, the Ziem? Good luck with that mate.- the beast chuckled softly._

 _-Why? Where am I?-_

 _-Zerf, of course! It's an imaginarium created by our leader, John. And Ziem is the only source of light in here. Many tried to reach it but all failed.- the lion explained. 'John is the leader of this crazy place? Imaginarium, what the bloody hell is that?...Should I give up?'_

 _-Oh, where are my manners? I am Ringo the lion, ruler of this city. And you are? You don't seem to be from around here?- Ringo said. 'Well those are some good questions, it's a real shame I don't have any of the answers! This is all nuts! This world is created by a nutter. Oh god, I'm gonna die…'_

 _-I...I don't know who I am...I just woke up in here and decided to head for the light source.- he bit his lip -I only heard the name John till now, do you know how I can reach him?- the man looked at the lion, eyes full of hope and sorrow._

 _There was a spark of something unknown in the beast's gaze that made him terrified. A vicious smirk appeared on Ringo's face as he circled around him. Eventually, after a moment of drowning silence, the creature spoke up_

 _-I will assist you.-_

 _'Yes!'_

 _-But not without a price.- The difference between the emotions of the two was laughable. The way the man's face fell and the beast's lit up, the contrast, comical. 'What could this lion possibly want from me? Maybe me leg? Oh god...what should I do? Deal with the Devil or be left alone in this mess?' He frowned at the thought. He was so screwed!_

 _-What do you want Ringo?- the grin winded. This is not good._

 _-Not much, my dear. A simple kiss would be enough.-_

 _-What?!- he turned pale.' I need to kiss a lion? He is probably going to swallow me head if I lean in.' He was breathing heavily by now, panic taking over his mind, taking away last bits of sanity from him._  
 _-It's simple my dear, I was cursed by John many years ago, he turned me into a beast.- he sighed -but you see, every curse can be broken.- the blue eyes met the deep brown ones expectantly._

 _-But why me?-_

 _-Well, did you see anyone alive around here? Even if they have a body, humans here are missing their souls.- a sad look thrown to the buildings -But now you are here.- an even sadder smile appeared on his face._

 _-Fine Ringo, I will do it.- Lion's eyes shot up in the surprise. -But do not forget about your end of the bargain!- 'What am I getting myself into…'_

 _-Splendid!- he roared. The lion positioned himself in front of the man, balancing on his back legs.-I've been waiting for this for so long. I can't wait to get my real body back!-_

 _-Yeah yeah, come on, will just a fast one work?- he urged._

 _-Yes, come here.- Ringo ordered. The man cupped the lion's face with his hands, caressing the soft fur under them. He was so warm, so tame...The beast rubbed itself against his palm, enjoying it. The look Ringo was giving him, his light blue pearls, made his heart skip a beat._

 _Sucking in a short breath, he leaned and brushed his lips against the lion's. He wanted to move away but Ringo's claws were digging in his back, making him stay rooted in place. The beast's body was now glowing, shrinking as a more human figure replaced it, warm lips still violently pressing against the man's. Ringo wasn't showing any signs of stopping anytime soon, but the man didn't mind that._

' _This isn't so bad. Ringo isn't such a bad kisser' , he noted. Now, he didn't remember the moment when the tongues got involved, only paying attention at the smaller, now a man, who was sucking on his lower lip hungrily, but he wasn't complaining._

 _-George!-_

 _What the..._

 _-George, oh god, wake up!-_

 _It was ringing in his head, the name...His name, he assumed. -George...- he uttered against Ringo's lips, separating them. The ex-lion gave him a confused look, annoyed by the disturbance._

 _-What's wrong luv?- he questioned worriedly._

 _-You mean you don't hear that...?- He was turning around, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from, and..._

 _Oh god..._  
 _He couldn't believe his eyes..._  
 _The Ziem was getting bigger and bigger..._  
 _It was swallowing everything..._  
 _And it was going straight towards them..._

 _And then, just like that, everything turned white._

The light was stabbing his eyes, making him groan in annoyance. He opened them and the first thing he saw were two familiar blue diamonds which were holding in a couple of innocent tears in their corners. A small smile appeared on the man's face when he saw George move.

-He's fine! Oh god he's fine!- Ringo gasped while moving his hands to hug the skinny lad. The other two males who were asleep, getting back to the reality, ran to greet their mate. They were all surrounding him now, full of questions and care and worry...  
Ringo was still hugging him tightly, repeating a silent mantra of 'Yer ok' making George a little more than confused after his dream. Oh the dream...it was so vivid it scared him, the unnatural desire to kiss another bloke...no...his best fucking friend! He thought he was about to faint again.

-What happened?- was all he could vocalize right now, still in daze from the previous experience.

-You fainted mate! We called the doctors and they told us you would be just fine.- Paul explained with a heavy sigh -But you were so pale and we thought we might loose ye...- his own tears were now running down his face.

John just stood there, not saying a word, just staring at George with a glassy look, not giving away anything. At least not to Paul and Ringo. His mind on the other side... _'Why did he faint? Was it because of the cookies? Oh god, maybe he was right, maybe they were poisonous...I could have killed him...I was reckless…'_  
And more apologies and swearing and mess...but there was something else there, something even John didn't dare to think of, a black void in his thoughts, an intruder.

-But why did it happen?- John finally entered the conversation, asking the question that was in everybody's heads. The boys exchanged looks, the room suddenly falling silent once again. Why did it really? The cookies? Probably.

-It was the cookies.- the guitarist stated weakly. He knew he was right, even if he didn't want to be.

-We can't be sure, not yet...you're not hearing John anymore, right?- Paul asked. George looked at the bassist, smiling nervously. He knew Paul had some kind of twisted feelings for the older man and felt intimidated by the situation they found themselves in. This realization didn't bother George so much, since he didn't feel anything for the older bloke (the Ferris wheel-problem was a coincidence, he told himself) and was pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

-I can Paul, he is a noisy man...- He put on a smile to break the tension and was pleased to find out it worked. They all giggled lightly at the remark, even John himself.

-I have a theory mates.- John started -I think George and I are bonded together, really.- and finished with a serious tone. They looked at him in shock, dumbfounded by the idea. _'Bonded for real? Does that mean we can not be separated, ever? How am I going to do anything if I always have to be with John, we can't even agree on the smallest of things! I won't be able to go to the bloody loo for Christ's sake!'_

-Think about it lads, the moment I or George walked away from each other, bad things happened to us.-

-Oh no...-Ringo and Paul gasped in harmony.

Oh no indeed.


	3. Chapter 3: I'm John Lennon Dammit!

-We have to tell him!- George shouted at the man next to him.

-No, we don't! What good could that possibly bring us, eh son?- the older one replied.

John and George were currently 'discussing' about whether they should tell Brian or not about their little problem, but both sides were persistent in defending their opinion and proving the other one wrong.  
Hours have passed since George's awakening and John's theory have taken place. Since then, many rules have been set in their hotel room and John wasn't having any of it. All he knew was that from now on he can never leave George's side. _'What the Bloody hell! I don't want to spend the rest of my fucking life with this ponce! I'm not some kind of a nanny! Why am I stuck with George of all people?! That stupid old lady and this stupid queer...ugh me head hurts like hell!'_

-I'm not a bloody pouf John! And you're not a fucking picnic to deal with either! he spat venomously.

-Oh yeah? I saw you two in there, I thought yer gonna get on with it right there! Bloody queers in me band...- He screamed, making the younger lad squirm at the accusation. _'Oh yeah,Ringo and you, a right set of lunners, you are.'_

-I don't k-know what yer talkin' about...- George fended weakly, his face going beet red. The rest of the band was staring blankly at the conflict, confused looks mirroring on Paul's and Ringo's face. _Haha, yeah, that should shut him up._

-Like hell you don't! You were snogging the daylight out of the poor sod!- John continued, a pleased smile stretching from ear to ear. _'We'll discuss this later Georgie boy.'_ The younger bloke frowned at his defeat.

-We aren't done Lennon, Bri needs to know!- George wasn't ready to give up and John could see that, his eyes glaring at him, daring him. _'Stupid git, I should juss kick him out, it's my bleedin' band after all!'_  
He could see George smirk. _'Cocky bastard! I remember the times when he was beggin' me to let him in, but look at him now, so sure of himself.'_ Oh, how John wanted to wipe that stupid grin of his face...

-Not a word to Brian or you'll have to deal with me.- he threatened , his fingers pointing to all of them. The men exchanged amused looks and nodded. John was pleased with the answer and decided to take a long bath. _'Wait...do I have to take him with me? Oh god...Come on George!'_

The lead guitarist read him and blushed at the thought. Yet, he did nothing to refuse, John mused. He followed him to the bathroom, avoiding the older man's gaze the whole time. _'What's with him? Is it because of the queer thing?'_ George flinched. _'I guess I hit the nerve.'_

-Well get in Georgie boy, faster we get in, faster we get out.- Well this wasn't going to be awkward at all...It wasn't like they've never seen each other naked, but now he knew George was queer...

-John, I'm not a ponce. I didn't know who I was in the dream...I'm not.- he tried, his voice cracking at the last words. But then, his preferences didn't change, even if he didn't have his memories.

-I was confused John, don't give me this bullshit, I know you fancied Stu before.- the older man winced at the mentioning of his past friend. Who was now dead. Well thank you George for bringing that up! George's eyes widened at the sudden mood change and he bit his lower lip guiltily.  
-I'm sorry John...I didn't mean to bring that up again...-he murmured uncomfortably. _'I bet you didn't, but you still did.'_

-Eh, turn around now. Or do ye want a show Georgie?- he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at his mate. -I think I can put on quite of a show.- the lad just turned around urgently, a small smile appearing on his face. John snickered at the reaction and started preparing.

-Ah don't be shy darling, Johnny's gonna take good care of you...-John spoke in his best girl imitation voice, trying to lighten the mood. He was just about to enter the tub when a brilliant idea struck him. He had to cover it up in the stream of other thoughts, he felt like a ninja.

Slowly, he placed his hands around George's waist, embracing him in a shallow hug and nuzzling in with his neck. He could feel the guitarist's heartbeat quicken at the contact, completely startled by the older bloke. For John's surprise, George didn't attempt to escape or do anything, just stood there, in shock he guessed.

And then something made his legs feel like mush. His body got swallowed by an unknown heat wave making it too heavy for him to move. An even more unpleasant feeling was spreading through his lower abdomen making him scream and curse himself inwardly. How could he be getting so turned on by this situation? _'What the hell is wrong with me? Move, move you fucker! Come on, why does my body not want to move?'_  
He inhaled deeply, trying to clear his head. And that was the first time he noticed. He could feel George in front of him, his angular curves trembling slightly at the touch, his intoxicating smell and beautiful pale skin. A new word, never before used with any man's name, was now lingering in his head, piercing through all the other useless thoughts.

Gorgeous.

And it scared him more than anything else.

-John...yer poking me...- A weak voice was heard, destroying the tension-filled silence and the older man's mind. _'Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh please, let me die, disappear...just to get away…'_

-I...ugh, do you mind moving a little bit Georgie?- John asked quietly, his voice coming out in uneven tones. -I can't really...- he stopped out of embarrassment, but his mind finishing the sentence for him. He really couldn't move and he didn't know why and it all made his head feel like it was being nailed to the wall, slowly and painfully.

-I'd rather not.- came the reply. And then the other man gracefully rolled to face him, their eyes meeting, John's light brown looking like they are going to fucking pop out of his head. _'What the bleedin' hell!'_

-That wasn't a plea Harrison, now move!- he spat angrily at the disobedience. _'Is he out of his freakin' mind? Oh god, I need to get away, oh please just let me go…'_ George's eyes. They were clouded with heavy lust, but something blue was shining in them, something that made John shiver as another wave of arousal hit him. _'I'm going to go mad if this continues, I need to find a way to move myself!'  
_  
And then, with one quick move of George's hands behind the older man's neck, their faces got closer, too bloody close for John's liking. The bloke in front of him licked his lips lustily and leaned in so John could feel the little sparks going through his body. Oh, he was getting mental. His body just wouldn't budge, it was just pressing up George limply, while his mind was running mad. _'No no no no no...this wasn't happening…'  
_  
And then lips connected... And John's mind went black, completely overtaken by pleasure of only having George's mouth on him. It was all so blurry, their tongues intertwined, needy hands all over each other, his sweat, moans...

-John! George! What the hell are ya two doing in there?!-

Paul.  
Cuz he's always there to help me, eh? He smiled inwardly.

He was just getting back to the reality when he saw George backing up, passing past a glaring bassist and rushing out of the bathroom. Stupid sod, we can't separate fro- *thud* - m each other. A sharp pain, like a dagger, passed through his head, but this time, magically, it didn't stay for that long, just made him collapse to the floor, his breaths coming out in short gasps.

-What the bloody hell happened?- Paul said angrily, now kneeling beside John. The older man just gave him a weak smile and tried getting up. -Some towels, eh Macca?-  
The bassist blushed, apparently only noticing John's sorry state now, rushing to fetch the desired items. Like a good fucking puppy really.

After he was covered properly he ordered Paul to go see if George was okay, which made the younger man very, very unhappy. He could see question marks bursting out of the bloke, and he had to assure him more than a couple of times he was fine before he finally got out.  
'Cept he was not. What happened here was not something John could call fine. He just couldn't dismiss it as a moment of craziness. I mean, moments don't last 10 beedin' minutes! He didn't like blokes, he didn't! But all about those blissful seconds with George made his body surge with lust, arousal visible from a mile away. Everything about the skinny man made him shiver in excitement.

It was sick.  
It made him mentally sick. The thoughts so real now, the thoughts of George and him snogging, of touching...of sha… _'I am John bloody Lennon, I have a wife and a child I have to look after for fuck's sake! I am not a queer! I fucked many birds and I ain't gonna stop now!'_

He pushed himself of the floor, slowly, arousal still surging through his body, making it hard for him to move properly. John picked up his clothes which were laying on the floor now, slipping them on as he exited the bathroom.  
He needs to forget this. And he knew how.

He headed out to the nearest pub.


	4. Chapter 4: Ghosts r unreasonably sexy

He drained yet another bottle of booze. An entire row of empty glasses was screaming at him. Smoke was surrounding him, eating him. There was faint laughter in the background. And somehow, he didn't mind it a bit.

Another blood drop fell from the tip of his nose to the counter. He brushed it off with the back of his sleeve and, touching his wounded forehead, took another swing of the warm liquor in his hand. Pain was not going away, not even after his seventh glass. What had gone wrong?

He remembered it so well, even in his alcohol-clouded state, shadows, cursing...wicked grins...knife... It all happened so fast. A gang of bloody Americans attacked him and, John was sure, tried to kill him. It was so clear now, maybe he was going mad, but he was sure this was all because of that old hag.  
 _'Her and her stupid binding cookies! Everything was going to hell because of those fucking sweets! How the fuck am I supposed to play tomorrow if this goes on like this?!'_

-Ahhhh!- John sighed heavily and threw another annoyed glance to his dirty blood-covered fingers, cursing silently. He looked so pathetic. _'Look at me, I could buy this place, but instead, I'm here weeping like a little girl. Man up Lennon! Worse things happened to ya so stop crying and do somethin'!'_ He grinned bitterly. Yeah right, ye're a bloody coward, admit it.

His brows furrowed at the thought as he turned around to scan the rest of the bar. Some students, a sailor, few whores (He might grab one after his done here...) and two blokes in a dark corner. Now, John would have gone back to sulking, gladly actually, but this couple caught his attention. The older one, which John chose to call 'Bob', whispered something, making the scrawny little male next to him giggle innocently, his eyes staring at his companion's adoringly. Somehow this seemed a little too familiar.

-Look at them, bloody queers.- A strange voice remarked quietly, raspy sound piercing through the comfortable silence. John's head snapped to the source of the sound, eyes widening at the sight.

He was looking at Stuart.

-S-Stu?...- He asked weakly, licking his lips, his throat suddenly going dry. His mouth formed a big 'o' as the ability to talk left him, along with his sanity, apparently. This couldn't be real...his mind was fucking with him. Well, you made your point brain, now fucking cut it out!  
Something touched his face tenderly. He snapped out of his daze and stared at the long soft fingers which were now stained with his blood, caressing his dirty cheek and making him wince at the foreign contact.

-Neat, eh John?- The Fake Stu, as John referred to him, smiled widely, making the guitarist shiver slightly. -You're the first person I could actually touch.-  
-Who are you? I never got this drunk before. Oh god...-

-Drunk? Oh Johnny, I know I left from your life before, but I didn't think you'd stop calling me real.- Another smile, this time a little cocky.

-But you...- Died. Yes, 'the accident' that still got John breaking down and crying like a little child in the cold lonely nights. This Fake Stuart here is just a hallucination...just a hallucination, keep repeating it.

-Oh yes, Astrid told you. I see.- He used a much sadder voice this time, as the pain of his girlfriend's name brought a certain feeling of guilt and betrayal. _'He never got to say a proper goodbye to anyone, not the band, or me, not even Astrid.'_ The atmosphere darkened drastically.

-But how? How?- John cried out desperately, the tension filling him too much to bear. His, no wait... Fake Stu just smiled again and ruffled his hair affectionately.

-Dunno John, I just woke up at this black alley and a strange voice kept saying 'Find John', so I started searching.- Stuart grinned. -And as it turns out, that wasn't such a hard thing to do, eh?-

-That's it then? You were dead for two years now and suddenly you come to me and start talking like nothing happened!- John was getting angry and fast, but it wasn't the usual pissed off look he was giving him, no, these were just days, weeks, months of grief and sadness rising and exploding. It was just too much.

-Oh come on cheer up Johnny, the important thing is that I'm here now, no?- -You're not! You're not real! My drunk mind is ju- John started in hysteria but was cut off by simple kiss. 

Now, even if this wasn't the first time John kissed a man, he wasn't so keen on the action and tried pushing The Fake Stu off. Surprisingly, the man on him was determined on having his way and kept John firmly under him. He was sitting in John's lap now and the guitarist couldn't help being a little excited by this. He always secretly desired his mate, but never tried acting on his weird feelings, simply because Stu was never queer. But now...

The Fake Stu bit his lower lip and John parted his lips in surprise, granting access to Stu's slick tongue. The younger man moaned loudly, despite trying to keep his emotions on a tight leash, the feeling of having a warm pair of lips too much to bear. A skilled hand sneaked under his shirt and started hovering over John's tensed muscles. Another loud grunt of pleasure escaped from the back of John's throat as one of Stu's fingers teased his nipple.

-Ahhh...I...St-Stu, we… we need to move...- He tried.

The Fake Stuart nodded between the kisses and they stepped out of the bar and into a narrow street behind it. John, already long past the line of stopping shoved Stu against the cold brick wall and continued with planting fierce kisses on those sweet lips. The words 'right' and 'wrong' blended into the same thing after some time and all of his rationalizations escaped his lust-filled brain.

Stu reached out for John's belt and started working on it, but failed, weakened by the pleasure. No matter, his hand found its way into John's pants and rubbed him through his underwear. John sucked in a sharp breath and buried his face in Stu's neck. He started biting it to prevent himself from moaning any louder. And then, in the middle of all that craziness, he actually realized what he was doing. And it scared him more than anything.

-Bloody hell...- He moved away abruptly but the arousal made his legs weak so he had to lean on the other building for support. The Fake Stu, as red-faced as John and panting, just stared in shock as anger overtook him.

-John, what the hell?-

-I have to go.- He replied breathlessly.

-Come on John, don't be like that! I was just kidding mate,-The Fake Stu got his cool back and was now smirking again, -let's get back inside.-

-No. I'm going back to the hotel. Don't follow me!- He demanded firmly. He had enough. I just have to clear me head, that's all. And forget this...whatever this was, ever happened.

-Fine.- What? That was easy. -Leave.-

-Really?- He asked stupidly.

-Yeah, run away John. But remember this: I'll never go anyway. I'll always be here to help you, one way or another...- And with that the dark figure disappeared into the night, leaving behind only a small dirt cloud and a very confused Lennon.  
The moonlight covered John's wounded face with it's silver magic as the silent tears rolled off his blood-covered cheeks and fell to the ground. He felt so...well, he didn't know any words to describe his current state. He didn't even know why he was crying. _'Oh, God, I'm so lost!'_

Lost and crazy.

Well, every girl's dream, innit?  
He brushed the dust of himself and headed back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Dear God John, what happened to you?- Was the first reaction to his sorry state, so kindly given to him by Paul. It was followed by Ringo's very worried -Where were you mate?- and a half-awake George grumbling something under his breath. The poor boy was so confused by John's appearance and probably his thoughts that he said nothing for a while, just stared.

-Nothin' happened, just went out to get some drinks, is all.- He lied through his teeth heavily and just shifted his gaze to the ground. _'Lets just never speak or think about this again.'_

-He got beat up by a couple of blokes outside.- George finally found his voice. _'Dammit, so close!'_

-What?!- Ringo and Paul shrieked in union.

-It's nothing, just a few cuts. Don't worry lads, it's fine.- John said brightly. _'It wasn't fine._

-John! You can't do this kind of things anymore, you're a grown man!- Paul shouted. -Julian looks up to you, what is he going to think if he sees you like this?-  
Julian. His one and only beautiful boy. He had completely forgotten about the little child in its mother's hands. _'What is he going to think about me? I don't want him to grow up with a crazy father.'_

-Come on, lay down and get some sleep, we have some recording to do tomorrow and we can't have you like this...- his voice trailed off as he lead the older man to his bed, right next to George's. Well this is just bloody great! -Sleep now, you have at least 5 hours.-  
A  
-Fine mother, are you happy?- he said childishly.

-Very.- Paul grinned wolfishly.

-Now, go, get out, let me and Georgie get some sleep. The baby needs it.- A sharp glare from the guitarist.  
Paul and Ringo both said their 'Goodnight' and left the room. Silence. An unsteady breathing rhythm could be heard from the other side of the room. George wasn't sleeping. John didn't care. He was focused on falling asleep and just as he was about to seal away the deal a faint 'John' entered his ears.

-What?-

-Are you sleeping?-

John rolled his eyes -Not anymore.-

-Ugh, sorry. Well, what's wrong?-

-What?- John replied stupidly. I don't have time for this...  
-Something's bothering you, there is a big black hole in your thoughts.- George said.

-Nothing's wrong, go back to sleep Geo.- A blind spot? I wonder why...no, I don't care. I just want to close my eyes and...

-Night John.-

-Night George.-

-Night John.- Whispered a third voice. Guitarist's eyes snapped open at the sound and he got up just to find out there is no one in the room. It was still pitch black and his little roommate was now soundly asleep. There's nothing here, it's just my imagination. Why do all the weird things have to happen to me?  
And as he was drifting of to sleep a strange thought ran through his mind. The voice was very similar to Stu's...


	5. Chapter 5: Sharing one bed cliche

Paul felt positively miserable. He took another swig of his Coke and threw himself on his bed, stretching like a cat about to take a long nap. Next to him, he could hear loud snores, the deep trumpet-like sound disrupting his peaceful silence. Ringo was resting in his bed, his chest rising and dropping in a steady motion. An occasional 'Aye aye captain' would slip from his dream-induced state and Paul couldn't help but giggle lightly. Lucky fellow, that one.

Paul didn't have that. Oh, what would he do for a few blissful moments like those.

A light knock was heard. Ringo didn't even stir. Neither did Paul. After a hard day like this(or past few) he didn't feel like speaking, or even being in the same room, with someone. _'If this is Bri, I swear to god…'_  
A lot more rougher and forceful knocking echoed through the room. This was not Brian, no, this was a bloke so twisted, even too much for his own good sometimes.

-Come on wanker, open the fucking door! Your king is here!- Roared the voice from the outside. Paul groaned in annoyance and launched himself of the bed, not even bothering to be silent anymore. -Whatsgoingon?- Ringo mumbled sleepily but the bassist ignored him, not really eager to deal with his mate.

-What do you want?- He said as the door opened, revealing a very amused John Lennon. But he was not alone.  
Next to him stood George who was awkwardly staring at the ground, not daring to meet anyone's gaze. But what made Paul frown in anger was not John's irritating smile or George's lack of words. It was the sight of them standing so close to each other.

And holding hands.

Their fingers intertwined with each other in a, disgustingly Paul noted, affectionate way. John's thumb was gently caressing George's hand and the younger lad signed heavily.

-Oh, we just wanted to drop by and have a quick chat, that's all. Unless her highness has something more important to do?- John asked cheekily and marched into the room, not even bothering to wait for a reply. And then, much to Paul's relief, George parted as quickly as he could. Some unknown emotion occupied John's face for a short time, but he regained his composure just as quickly and went back to his usual Lennon smirk. Now, if this had been any other man, this change of altitude would have gone unnoticed, but Paul knew him too well. They were best friends after all. Something sounded wrong about that statement. No matter.

-Better be good Lennon.- he voiced his displeasure and went back to his bed, patting the place next to him. The mentioned man followed, whistling a familiar tune. As John sat next to his writing buddy he eyed two bloke on the opposite side of the room. George was wearing a weird expression of something similar to adoration, but it went unnoticed by Ringo. Still, Paul couldn't help the overtaking feeling of jealousy. The frown that appeared on John's face was easy to spot, and was evidently, targeted at George. This didn't thrill Paul.  
But why was he getting jealous? The feeling of unease settled in his stomach as he cleared his throat. John's head snapped at his direction, a loud crack making him wince in pain.

-Huh, what?-

-Why did you come here?- Paul said patiently, touching the bridge of his nose to ease the headache.  
-Can you see him?- John asked seriously. Paul thought he was referring to George but was proven wrong by John's eyes which were firmly attached to the place next to him. Has he lost it?

-Who?- He asked stupidly.

-Never mind, it isn't important.- He said, almost sadly. The change of the mood struck Paul as a little odd but he forgot about it. _'I wonder what he meant by that.'_ -Anything else you wanted to say beside this totally unrelated question?-

-Paul, do ya find me attractive?-  
Silence. Paul stared at his mate who so casually spoke of the matter. He licked his lips as he felt his blood boil and face heated up. _'What the hell is wrong with him? Is this some kind of confession?'_ His pulse quickened.

-What a queer thing to ask John.- He said with a shaky voice, cursing the excitement. -Yer going soft Lennon.-

-Just answer the god damn question Macca.-

-I...- Suddenly, words failed him. _'What was I supposed to say? After knowing John for almost a total of 8 years you learn that it's always best to tell him what he want's to hear. Of course, if you want a bloody nose…'_ -I suppose.-

John's lips stretched in a lazy smile as he laid down and continued humming 'Baby It's You'. He pulled Paul down with himself and they laid in silence. Paul could hear John's steady breathing and feel his body heat and it made him extremely uncomfortable. The tension, mainly coming from him, was almost suffocating but he couldn't will himself to move, rare moments like these were the ones Paul lived for. Seeing his mate so close to him, without his usual cold mask and so vulnerable. Paul started thinking about what other things involved himself, John Lennon and a bed...

-Ugghhh...- John suddenly moaned, very quietly, but enough to stop his singing. Paul opened his eyes in surprise, not believing his ears. He could hear the man next to him curse in a whisper. John pushed himself off the sheets and looked around.

-George, visit's over, come on.- he called out, turning and heading for the door. Paul blinked and sat up, looking at the older man with raw confusion in his eyes. Did he...moan?  
George, upon hearing his name, obeyed. Still, when he reached John, he whispered something and John just nodded. -I'll wait for ya outside. Ringo mate, let's have a word, shall we?- And with that, they were gone.

He first looked at George, then at the closed door, and finally back to George. After a while a loud 'What the hell is wrong with you?!' was heard from the other side , but Paul knew that wasn't directed at their good-natured drummer. John must have sent him off to somewhere the minute they stepped out. But then, who was he shouting at? George has also turned to the source of the screaming and was frowning lightly.

-Dammit, The Hole again.- He murmured to himself. _'The Hole, what the fuck is that?'_

-Sorry?-

-The thing that was in John's mind since the pub.-

-What is it then?- Paul was getting a little angry now. Getting George to explain something was as easy as getting blood out of a rock. Still, this seemed like a big problem for John.

-I don't know really. It's like a big black ball of nothing right in the middle of all thoughts.- George answered.

-Really?-

-Yeah, he's been talking to himself for two days straight. Wonder how you didn't notice it.-

Now that he thinks about it, something weird was happening with John, but Paul missed it. And George registered it. His stomach with the realization -I'm going to check up on him.-

-No! Stay.- George said with a desperate whine. -I want to ask you something.-

-Well, fire away then.-

-I...Paul, did ya ever think about what it's like to kiss another bloke?- George whispered and shifted his gaze to the ceiling. Paul went mute. His heart was yet to recover from his last John-high and this didn't help. Does he know something? Or was George hinting at something? Did he want him to...?

-Well...I did, but I don't think it would be much different from kissing a bird.- He answered truthfully. -Why you ask?-

-Well...just a random question Paul.- George stood up and patted his thighs. He looked around like he was searching for something, and after not finding it, left. Paul didn't bother to follow him. All this brainstorming was tiring him out. What was that? What did George mean by all that? What was 'The Hole' and why was John going mental over it? _'This is just too bloody much for me. I don't care, they're grown men, they can handle it, right? Somehow, this wasn't so easy anymore.'_

-***-

Ringo shivered violently. He was currently outside of the studio, waiting out in the cold. Why, you might ask? He was waiting for his best mate, George Harrison to drive him to his flat. He rented a nice little house near their hotel, a place to get away from all the madness. His body felt heavy as he thought about the neatly-made bed in his bedroom. _'Jesus, Geo, hurry up!'_

The said man appeared behind him. Ringo turned in surprise and stared at him. A more muscular figure was standing next to him. John. And like Paul before him, he was greeted by the sight of the two men holding hands.

-Ready mate?-

-Yeah, come on.- Ringo urged. He wanted to ask George about the closeness between him and John, but held his tongue. It wasn't his business anyway. They drove in silence. John was sitting at passengers seat. Their were still holding hands, John's big strong enveloping George's. Ringo became very irritated by the fact and decided to press the matter.

-George, John?-

-Yes Ritchie?- They said in union. He gritted his teeth.

-Why are ya two holding hands?- Both men exchanged looks. And then John's laughter filled the small space. George didn't even move a muscle. -Don't worry Ringsy, I won't be stealin' this little scrawny bastard.-

-I never...-

-It eases away the pain.- John interrupted sharply. -If I'm not near him the pain becomes unbearable. It was like that since the bar.- Ringo took a moment to process the new information. He never thought about the effects of the sweets, especially on John. The pain? What happened in that bar? He tortured himself with these questions until they reached his residence. The weather was depressing. The air was cold and merciless, biting Ringo's naked skin harshly. Clouds above them were dull gray, the ugly color showing the upcoming storm.

-Mates, it looks like it's gonna rain, wanna come in?-

-We ca-

-Gladly.- John smiled. George glared at the guitarist but nodded briefly. They went in.

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Well, we're off!- John yawned loudly. George, who was seated on the couch, looked at him curiously. -No, we are not. I'm not sleepy.- He protested.

-Well too bad son, but you're gonna sleep either way.- Ringo got up and walked them to the guestroom. -Please, keep all the moans and grunts to the minimum.- The drummer winked. John grinned wickedly. George just rolled his eyes.

-We'll try, but I don't guarantee anything Rings.- John opened the door and they stepped in. The room was spotless, it was warm and the bed in the middle of it was neatly made. One bed. Fuck. The wide mattress squealed as John threw himself on it, not even bothering to change.

-What are you waitin' for Georgie? Get in!- He asked playfully.

-Get in?-

-Yeh, where are you going to sleep if you don't? I can't imagine the floor being very comfortable.- He had a point there. But he couldn't just sleep next to him the whole night. Sure, they shared the bed once, in Hamburg, but that was just one of those unpleasant moments. He never thought he will have to do something like that again. But John was right, he couldn't just sleep on the floor. Could he? _'No, don't be stupid. What was the worst thing that could happen?'_

Nothing. They were both fully clothed, thank God, with their backs turned to each other. An unspoken rule of 'no contact' was carried out. Then John broke the peace.

-George? I know you're not sleeping.-

-What?-

There was an awkward pause.

-What was that in the bathroom before?- George rolled over in shock, just to find a very serious familiar face staring at him firmly. John had the best timing, it seemed. He was caught wordless. George always hoped John had somehow forgotten about that accident. _'Why do you have to be such a prick Lennon?'_

-Nothing happened John, nothing.- Was the best answer he could muster. -That wasn't nothing George. We both know that.- It was the queerest thing I had done in my life, he heard John add.

-Forget it.-

-I can't. Why did you act that way?-

-I don't know John. Leave it.- He was still staring at John's face, suddenly realizing just how close they actually were. His whole face was so alluring, so tempting... He just wanted to move forward. To taste him, touch him... _'No! No no no no no! I don't want that! John, turn around! I don't want to look at you, please.'_

To George's relief, the older man rolled around quietly after a short pause. _'I guess he doesn't have enough time to deal with this.'_ George laid in bed for an hour, tossing and turning and just as he was finally drifting off to sleep a pair of strong arms warped around his waist, pulling him closer. His first instinct was to flee or gag or run, but something about John, his heartbeat, warm body, resisted those urges. And that's when he finally felt truly happy. He fell asleep with a small smile on his face.


	6. Chapter 6: Stuart fucks everything up

_John looked around, confused. He was supposed to see New York and it's gray dull buildings, rising before him, making him slightly claustrophobic. He was supposed to see the concert arena, the crazed fans, his mates. He was supposed to see._

 _John was blind._

 _His biggest fear was coming to reality, the big black curtain was raising above him. And then it fell. It was like a half of his mind was cut off. Shut down._

 _He was blind._

 _His whole world was one single color, like on those poorly-done black and white photos, one monotone dark abyss. A room without light. Without an exit. He was stuck._

 _He was blind._

 _And then all his memories came pouring out. Big bright sky, peaceful fields. Colors. Cyn, Julian, The Beatles. It was all filling his head with unbearable heat. It stung. Everything, his whole life was slowly fading away, blending in with the black background.  
He could still hear. But that alone was not enough. He couldn't make music anymore._

 _He started weeping. Everything that mattered was taken away from him. A strong pain in his head made him fall to his knees. John covered his ears to shut them off. Them, invisible ghouls that were surrounding him, whispering. 'You sssshould end it.', they hissed viciously. 'You're nothing now.', they sang._

 _-Help! Anyone, help?!- He screamed on top of his lungs but nothing happened. No one rushed to help him. Nobody could hear him. Another knife went through his chest. This is the end._

 _-John?- George! He can hear me!_

 _-Help!- he cried out in pain. Someone squeezed his shoulder worriedly. A little light appeared in the distance. John couldn't believe his eyes. The light was the most wonderful thing John had ever seen. He got up. And ran._

 _The floor moved under him, suddenly becoming alive, trembling slightly. Sharp black spikes shot from it, one nearly hitting John's leg. Adrenalin was pulsing through him, making him run faster. The light started shrinking. John's last chance was slipping through his fingers, leaving him alone to rot. He was panting heavily now, his breath caught in his throat. 'Why are you disappearing, don't run away! Stop!'_

 _His limbs were sore, he was on the verge of collapsing in exhaustion. He wasn't going to make it!_

 _The light started blinking-_

 _And disappeared._

 _John screamed a desperate 'No!- as he tripped. His face met the ground with a strangled cry. He laid there motionless. A loud screeching metal-to-metal sound was heard from behind. John couldn't even move to see his killer. He was completely paralyzed._

 _Amused laughter. A weapon raising, cutting, through the air. -Begone!- was the last thing John heard before a cold spear pierced his heart._

 _-***-_

John's eyes snapped open as he strongly gripped the soft pillow next to him. He was panting violently, breaths coming out in short gasps. His hands were shaking in fear as he hugged the item in them. What the hell was that?!

The pillow shifted slowly. _'Pillow?'_ He looked down to see a small bundle of dark brown hair. The person in his arms trembled. _'I don't remember pickin' up any girls last night.'_ We drove to Ringo's house...rain...single bed? Something about a bathroom and George?

He stared at the man next to him. And as the realization sank in he jumped out of the bed. His legs, not quite ready for walking yet, gave away and a loud *thud* was heard. John yelped in pain but covered his mouth to keep quiet. He didn't want to wake the little sleeping angel...Angel?! _'Fuck, that magic is stronger than I expected.'_

His head was spinning and he nearly threw up. John cursed his current weakens and lit up a ciggie, nicotine kissing his lips lightly. His nerves were calming down as the smoke enveloped him.  
John didn't feel any less confused. What did that dream mean? Why was George the only one that heard him? Was his whole world spinning around that kid now?! _'I didn't even have the time to call Cyn when we got here! I hate this!'_ John sighed heavily to calm himself again.

He stood up, still weak in his legs. _'Come on Lennon, nothing scary in sharing a bed with George. It's not like he's going to try something. Or you are.'_

-Yes, it's all perfectly safe.- chuckled a man behind him. Fake Stuart was smirking annoyingly in a corner of the room. John's eyes narrowed at the sight. This 'ghost' was always here, next to him, following him, hiding in the shadows. He only came out when John was extremely agitated or perfectly calm. The thing at the hotel was just one of Stuart's pranks. It left John fuming silently for hours, such embarrassment foreign to him. I mean, moaning while laying next to your mate? The shocked expression Paul had scared the shit out of him.

-What do you want Stuart?- He asked tiredly. His heart was still tugging violently in his chest and the last thing he needed was this fake-fucking-copy of his past mate teasing him.

-Nothing Johnny, I juss wanted to say hi.- He smiled. -So, hi.-

John rolled his eyes.  
-Hello and goodbye.- This isn't what he would say to Stuart, never, but this thing was clearly nothing like his dear dead friend.

-Oh, don't be like that John. We're mates!-

-We're no mates, son. You ain't real and I don't plan on befriending a hallucination.- Fake Stu frowned slightly. He made his way to the bed John and George shared, sitting next to the young lad's head, tracing his long fingers over it. John wanted to protest, or even move, but found himself unable to do so for some unknown reason.

-John, do you love him?- Asked the man, not bothering to look at him. His hands moved to George's neck and John growled in anger. -Don't touch him!- he hissed, still trying very hard to move. This is like that time...

-Johnny, don't change the subject, it's not polite.- Stu licked his lips hungrily as he unbuttoned George's shirt slowly. George didn't even stir. John stared at the pink exposed skin, his eyes easily giving away the sudden wave of unexpected lust. Stuart lowered his head and struck his slick tongue out, licking the warm flesh, making John mentally groan. Oh, how he wanted to taste that... He felt his pants tightening. Stu raised his head and smirked.

-I think you have a small problem down there Johnny.- He said and beckoned him. To John's great surprise, his legs moved on their own, and he found himself standing next to the two men. Anger was building in him, mixing with arousal, making his nerves go wild.

-Well, what are ya starin' at, join me.- John obeyed. No, wrong, was forced to. Something in his mind told him that that's the right choice, despite the struggle of the rest. He bent over, his nose coming in contact with the soft flesh. He inhaled sharply, the scent of alcohol and ciggies filling his nostrils. The little muffled beats of George's heart were calming John's racing one. He was so close.

George was beautiful. His perfect curves, lips... John wanted him. _'This was so wrong. This was all so fucked up! I never asked for anything like this. Move, body move!'_

-Tsk, tsk. You can't resist John. Not this time.-

-Fuck you Stuart, let me go!- he demanded firmly, shooting a very annoyed glare in his direction. He was sick of them all and their pushing him around. He's John Lennon dammit! Not today, Stu, not today.

-What are you..?- but John was already out of the room. How had he broken out of the spell, he had no idea. Was he happy about it, maybe. He could hear Fake Stuart's feeble attempts to bring him back but he was long gone before anything happened. After he escaped, well at least thought so, he took a moment to wonder about George's current state. Never mind.

Why was this happening to him? Couldn't they all juss' leave him alone?! He punched the wall harshly, preventing himself from crying out in pain.

-Fuck...- _'No more. I'm gonna put a stop to all this queer shit once and for all!'_ He looked around to see if the Fake Stu was anywhere in sight, and after not spotting him, hurried to the front door. Just as he was about to exit, a pair of gentle hands stopped him. He turned around quickly, panic in his eyes. Stuart couldn't possibly...

-Hullo John! Where are you goin' mate?- Ringo asked with a well-meaning smile stretching on his face.

-Jesus, ya scared me!- John exclaimed in exaggeration, putting a hand on his heart dramatically. Ringo laughed, he always made him laugh. John was very fond of their little drummer, the blue-eyed man always very pleasant to talk to.

-Sorry, didn't mean to.-

-Don't worry son, I'm just going back to our hotel room, I bet Paul's already missin' me.-

-Aren't ya going to take George with you?- He asked with a worried expression. _'Oh...I forgot about the little bugger. Well, I can't go without him, can I? No, the pain will drive me mad! But Stu is upstairs…'_

-Ringo, be a dear and fetch him for me, eh?- Smart move Lennon.

-Fine, we'll be here in a moment.- Ringo's grin widened strangely, almost maniacally and John didn't like the glint of mischief that crossed his eyes at the offer. It seemed so...strange. _'Why would I care? I don't.'_

The drummer murmured something under his breath before running off to the guest room next to his own. John needed help. This was not something he was going to cure on his own. He needed to consult with a professional. One more reason to get to the hotel.

-***-

 _"Where am I?' George looked around. There was nothing beside darkness. He was alone, he assumed, no, hoped. No sound was heard. Zerf? No, this is different... Is this the black hole? It must be. 'But why am I in it?'_

 _-Well that's a very good question George.- a deep voice came behind him. His neck bones almost cracked at the sudden jerk of his head. He lost his balance, nearly falling to the ground in the act. The man, he noted, laughed bitterly. -Really, what does he see in you...-_

 _-Who?...- his lips formed an 'o', as the identity of the stranger sank in. Stuart?!_

 _-Hello Georgie.- He smiled._

 _-Stu!- he cried out joyously and hugged the tall man in front of him. Tears escaped his eyes, happiness too much to bear. The older man patted his back with a laugh. -Yer not dead! How?-_

 _-Doesn't matter, does it? It's important that I'm here, innit?-_

 _-Oh, John's going to freak! And Astrid!- They parted abruptly. George stared in shock as Stu snapped his fingers, showing him up against a wall that magically appeared behind him. He yelped in pain as his back and head connected with the hard brick wall. -Ah, what the fuc-!-_

 _-Don't touch him! He's mine!- Stuart spat angrily. He raised one of his fists in the air but didn't hit him, just stood there, pushing him harshly. There was some sadness in his eyes, but he hid it well._

 _-What are ya...?- George breathed out. This doesn't make any sense! Who is he talking about?..._

 _Stu chuckled bitterly, -Oh, you know who I'm talking about Georgie.-, and pushed more forcefully, making George tremble uncomfortably. -You can't have him! He's mine, ya hear me? Mine!-_

 _-But I really don't...- George tried but was stopped by a flash of blinding light in front of him. Stuart turned around, muttering a stream of curses, and left him almost as fast as he arrived. A low, nearly not audible 'He's mine' was the last thing George heard before a familiar white beast swallowed him._


	7. Chapter 7: Ringo is always last

Ringo found himself jumping happily, energetically to George's room, almost breaking the door knob on it. _'Why am I so excited? Calm down.'_ His little mate had this effect on him. They had been best friends since Hamburg but Ringo always thought they were something more. _Stop it._

He was, Ringo couldn't deny it, jealous of John. He knew it was a very silly thing but right now those two were inseparable and it was getting on his nerves. He almost wanted to slap John when he saw him holding hands with George last evening. _'No, I didn't want that, don't be stupid. It eased away John's pain so it's completely fine, right?'_  
 _  
'Still, why did he get so lucky? If I had ate that cookie... Stop, nothing would have happened, George is not queer, he likes women. And so do I. But something about the guitarist was just so alluring... God Ringo, control yourself!'_ He laughed bitterly. _'What's next, gonna start talking to meself?'_

He opened the door slowly, cautiously. George was just as bad as John when it came to waking up, greeting everyone who awoke him with a sharp 'Fuck off!'. He hated angering the young lad, but he didn't have much of a choice right now. He told John he would bring him down, and let him be damned if he wasn't going to. But couldn't John?...

Ringo's eyes widened at the state his mate was in. Is this just another one of John's sick pranks? George was sprawled on the bed, his whole shirt undone, revealing the delicious naked upper body. Ringo's tongue almost rolled out of his mouth but he bit his lip furiously. Oh, that beautiful trembling body...trembling? Ringo looked more carefully this time, his eyes narrowing at little sparkling gems that were sliding down George's cheeks slowly. _'He's crying?!'_

Ringo rushed to his mate's side, kneeling next to the bed. He hated seeing anyone cry, especially George, his heart broke every time he caught him in this sorry state. _'He must be having a nightmare... Should I wake him?'_ His eyes traveled across the slim curves and he cursed his inability to resist the stupid urge.

-I don't...- George mumbled as another tear escaped his eye. The drummer caressed the bony cheeks and started shaking the little skinny frame. George's eyes fluttered and opened wildly as he sat up and pushed Ringo violently, sending the little man to the hard ground.

-What the heck was that for?!- Ringo spat in agony, almost ready to return the favor. Still, the reasonable side of his mind stopped him from doing something he would most certainly regret later. He got up, his body still aching slightly, and threw an annoyed glare in George's direction. But all that anger evaporated the second he realized how bad his friend actually felt.

-George...- He reached over to touch his weeping mate but the lad just continued rocking himself back and forth, his head tucked in between his legs. He was repeating 'He's mine' over and over, like a some kind of a calming mantra, but it was clear that it did not have that effect on him.

-George, you alright mate?-

-I...I'm fine.-

-You don't look fine. Did you have a nightmare?- Ringo asked tentatively. George was now wiping away the tears furiously, his face blank. -No, it's alright Ritchie. It doesn't matter.-

-Don't be like that Geo, tell me what happened.- The drummer demanded softly. George wasn't usually this unapproachable and the fact angered Ringo more than ever. _'Aren't we best friends? I'm sure we are!'_

-It was Stu.- George sighed tiredly, still shivering slightly. -He attacked me and kept shouting 'He's mine'.-

-But why would...?-

-Ringo, remember how I told you about that Black Hole?- He switched the subject and Richard wanted to protest, but seeing the drenched state George was, kept his mouth shut. Yes, he remembered the conversation perfectly. The Black Hole that George was so concerned about, John that he was so concerned about. He bit his lip.

-Yes, I do.-

-I think Stuart is the Black Hole.- George said nonchalantly, like this was not such a big revelation. Ringo's eyes widened as the information sunk in. Stu was the Black Hole? But that was the thing in John's brain, wasn't it? Why would he be thinking about Stuart all the bloody time?

-Why would Stu be the bloody Black Hole?-

-Dunno Ringo. I just know it.- They stayed like that for a while, George holding a firm stare, making the older one sweat profoundly. The intense look the younger male was giving him always made his body shiver. Ringo was not used on such an action and found himself getting a little too hot and bothered by all the tension.

As the minutes passed Ringo tried to find something to say. Something comforting... _'I 'ave nothing. Why won't he say something?'_ Suddenly George leaned in, or rather, made Ringo's heart stop. The drummer, too occupied by his own thoughts, just stared at the dark brown orbs blankly, not registering the too-intimate position they both were in. The moment George's soft fingers connected behind Ringo's neck and the second they started pulling him forward, the real weight of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks.

-Ahhhh!- A cry escaped Ringo's throat as he threw himself backwards, somehow pulling George off the bed at the same time. A strong pain shot through him, twice dammit, as he fell. Another surprised grunt of agony pierced through the air as a body collapsed on top of his own. He could feel shallow breaths hitting his earlobe. Dear God...

-Fuck.-

-Ringo?...-

-I'm...alright George.-

Silence. _'What am I supposed to do? We are so close…'_ George used his elbows to rise but he didn't get off Ringo, much to the drummers dismay. His dark eyes bore into Ringo's soul. _'Why won't he move?!'_ The smaller male struggled weakly to escape but the weight above him kept him from making any progress. To make it even worse, the feeling of his mate's body pressed against his own made his lower body ache painfully. This wasn't happening...

-George, mate, could ya?- Ringo asked uncomfortably, hoping that the younger lad couldn't see the very, very obvious arousal. There was a very brief change of George's expression but he quickly replaced it with his usual stony look, just nodding as he got up. But this didn't ease away the bitter-sweet tension between them. What, you thought it was going to be easy? Silly sod.

After he covered himself up, Ringo stood up and looked at his best friend once again. His cheeks were bright red and he was staring out through the window. He was tapping his foot feverishly. His shirt was still undone, hanging loosely around his shoulders. And Ringo couldn't help but stare, stare at the beautiful man standing in front of him, acting like a nervous teenage girl about to confess her undying love. Somehow this made him think of John. Wait...John?

-Shit! Come on George, button up, John's waitin' downstairs!-

-John's what?-

-Fast!- He urged loudly. Who knows what was going through his band leader's head these past 10 minutes. He's going to get kicked out of the bloody Beatles if John catches him. He loved being a Beatle and he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Well, George was unearthly beautiful but still...

George was just about ready when Ringo dragged him out of the room and delivered to John. They found the guitarist in the kitchen, he was preparing tea in silence. His eyes widened as Ringo entered, he almost dropped the cup he was holding. Still, a very cheeky, very knowing, grin spread across his face, stopping Ringo dead in tracks. Did he hear something?

-Had fun Rings, George?-

-Fuck off Lennon.- George hissed, clearly not in the mood to argue with the older bloke. John's smile formed a tight line for a second but he quickly got his wits back. Ringo was always annoyed by John's ability to not let anything affect him.

-Someone fell from the wrong side of the bed today, eh son?- Ringo tried his hardest to not crack a smile. His mate always brought out the worst in him.

-Stu told you that?- George asked evilly. Ringo forgot just how mean and spiteful his little mate could be if he wanted. John Lennon was his idol after all.

The way John's face changed, his fists clenched in pure anger. He could see the wheels turning in John's head, coming up with about million ways to hurt George. Tears were an option. _'This isn't going to happen in my house.'_ Just as John was about to unleash the hell, Ringo stopped between them.

-Rich, get out of the way.-

-No, you're not going to do this in my house.- John sent him a death glare but his will didn't break. _'Why do I always protect this lot?'_

-John, lets go.- This surprised Ringo even more, since it never never left his mind. George offered his hand to the older man, and he, sighing, accepted it. _'I guess George had enough of hearing John's thoughts.'  
_  
-See ya at 4 lads!-

-You won't go back with us?-

-No, I'm gonna stay here for a while.- And with that, he closed the door. He didn't see gentle bony fingers connecting with rough skeptical ones. He didn't see the pleased smile that appeared on John's face. But he didn't need to. He had other plans. _'I'll get him. I won't let that bastard have him.'_

'My thought exactly.' another voice whispered in his ear.


	8. Chapter 8: Seducing your manager is bad

-John?-

-Yeah?-

-Is Stu the Black Hole?-

-Yeah.-

Silence.

-Why are you thinking about him?-

-He's always here.-

Sigh.

-Why?-

Pause. -Dunno.-

-He came into my dream.-

Snap. Eyes connecting.

-Yeah?-

-Yeah.-

Few screams from the outside.

-What happened?-

-He hit me.-

Car turns to the right violently.

-I'm sorry George.-

-For what?-

-For bringing him here. For making you eat those sweets. For all this fucking mess.-

Glurp. Tight hand squeeze.

-It's okay John.-

-It's not. The Universe has something against me.-

-That's not true. If it was, you wouldn't be the almighty John Lennon that these American birds lust over.-

Muscles untensing. Smile.

-Better?-

-No.- Another smile, bigger, brighter.

-You're a prick sometimes Lennon.-

-A part of my charm mate.-

-Indeed.- They stopped, the car's engine giving a wild jerk. Their hands separated and John's face fell. This morning his pain came as soon as their fingers untangled. _'Arggghh, I hate this! This fucking headache is so annoying.'_ His eyes drifted off to the only thing that could possibly heal him.

As soon as they stepped out of the car loud screams, mainly 'We Love You!', erupted and ripped out the two man's eardrums. John's first reflex was to get to safety, anywhere safe, but instead he just grabbed George's hand and started running towards the hotel entrance. He had to drag the scrawny lad for some time but, ultimately, they got inside.

-Sir, you can't enter this hotel-

-I'm John fucking Lennon, let me in, now!- he demanded.

-Y-Yes, right away sirs.- The guard stuttered. -Your room number is 45, third floor, to the right. Your keys.-

-Thank you.- George said this time, slightly uncomfortable by the fact they were still holding hands. He tried to let go but John's death grip did let him budge.

-John, would you let go?- George asked when they escaped all the watchful eyes.

-No.-

-Why not?-

-It hurts.-

 _'I didn't know it was that strong.'_ -Oh come on John, it can't be that bad.-

-It's pretty fucking awful George. It's like a swarm of angry bees inside me head.- _'It was that horrible for him? For me, I never felt any pain, it was always just a strong feeling of emptiness. That and the random black outs.'_ The only thing that ever filled it was John's touch but George could go without it. _'I never depended on him.'_

When they reached their floor, Paul was waiting for them, his arms crossed. An annoyed expression was ruining his pretty face and George had to chuckle at the sight. Paul's similarity with his Mum was almost uncanny and he suddenly felt like a boy that stole some cookies from the cookie jar

-Where's Ringo?-

-Stayed at home, he'll come later.-

Paul nodded curtly and returned to his room. _'Well, I can already feel the love'_ , he noted bitterly. Paul was jealous, very. Last time, when they entered the room, he thought he was going to kill him just for holding John's hand. And after that question George wasn't entirely sure what to expect from his older mate. But then again, John wasn't much better. John fiddled with their keys and opened the door.

-M'lady?-

-Sod off!- George blushed for some unknown reason. Suddenly, he felt really tired. Oh...

-Johnny, be a good chap and get me to the bed?-

-What? You don't have your legs Harrison?-

-I'm too tired, come on.- John stared at him strangely, like he was a ghost or something. After a few moments, George turned around to finish the task himself but John's hand didn't let him move.

-Fine 'arrison, come on, come here.- John placed George's arm around his neck and his own right hand on one of his bony hip. George leaned on his mate, suddenly enjoying the feeling of John's warm body next to his. But, good things don't last, as his father often told him. John laid him, no, threw him on his bed and quickly retreated to the other side of the room. George winced at the roughness his mate was displaying, not quite used to the treatment, not even from John.

-Thank you John.- He hissed angrily but got no reaction.

-At your service my queen.-

-Yeah, right.-

John looked around. They stayed there, in silence. Well, not really. _'My head! Fuck fuck fuck! I need a bird, god. I should find something to drink. Why is he staring at me? Is he reading me mind? Didn't your mom teach you eavesdropping is not nice Harrison? I need to go to B- Shit, he's reading me mind. Cupcakes. Ciggies. Shit.'_

-Cupcakes, really?-

-Yes, cupcakes. I like cupcakes, 'ave a problem son?-

-None at all.- George smiled.

-Who is miss B?-

-Ugh...- _'Yeah, miss'_ , John thought. George frowned.

-Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from your date.-

-Eh, yeah. You fine with sleepin' another few hours?-

-I am a cat John, don't worry about me.- John nodded hesitantly and left. George looked at the closing door as his own head dropped on the pillow. As his conciseness slipped, a very blissful smile appeared on his lips.

-***-

-Come in!-

John stepped in Brian's office casually, ignoring the surprised look the manager gave him. He sat in front of Brian and stole his wine glass, drinking every last drop from it.

-Make yourself comfortable.- Said the man in front of him, clearly annoyed by the sudden intrusion. But John knew that his manager could never mind his presence. Yeah Eppy, ya queer, enjoy the view.

-How's it going Bri?- John asked lightheartedly.

-Quite fine, I was just on the phone...- Brian started but lost his voice as his eyes trailed over to John's lips. He refilled his glass hurriedly. The guitarist smiled deviously as a brilliant idea struck him. _'Well, let's have some fun together, shall we Eppy?'_

-Yeah?- he asked uninterestedly, sticking his finger in the wine glass, swirling it around lazily. Brian raised an eyebrow questioningly but continued blabbing about their success, plans for the upcoming movie...

-Are you listening John?-

-Yeah, sure.- He pulled the finger out and brought it to his lips. Brian stopped talking for a second. John's tongue sneaked out of its hiding place and warped around its target. A nervous glurp was heard from the other side of the table. Easy.

-Yeah, go on, 'm listenin'.-

-Ugh...yes, as I was saying...- Uncertainty was in his voice and John almost felt bad for torturing the man. Almost. John licked the fingertip and started going down, slowly, seductively. To be true, he had no idea what he meant to do in here. He thought Brian might be able to help with his 'situation', but nothing like 'Let's turn Bri on' was on his mind. Well, till now, that is. He caught a pair of lust-clouded eyes staring at him intensely and he cleared his throat.

-So. The next show?-

Suck, suck, lick.

-Yes of course! We shall...-

Bite, moan, nervous cough.

-Very interesting.-

Sigh, rhythm speeding up.

-John, would you?...-

Pause. Deep breath. Smile.

-What?- Confused look. Lick, suck.

-Stop doing that.-

-Why?-

-It's inappropriate. Stop it, please.-

-Fine Eppy, you're the boss!- He pulled out his finger out, delicately. He then took a better look at his manager. His cheeks were painted in bright red, lips were parted slightly and, John smirked, one hand was planted in his lap. There was always something he found so pleasurable in the fact that he had this power on the older man. Paul might be the 'cute' one, but John was 'the one'.

-Why did you come here John?- Brian asked, agitated.

-Do I have to have a reason to visit me manager?-

-Yes.- Brian said flatly. John's smile faded. _'What am I supposed to say now? 'Eppy, I think I might be queer, I need you to fix me.' Yeah, right.'  
_  
-So?-

-I think I might be queer, I need you to fix me.-


	9. Chapter 9:John&Brian, sittin in a tree

-I'm sorry?-

-I think I might be queer, I need you to fix me.-

 _'Fuck. If he makes me repeat it one more time I swear 'm goin' to hit him.'_ John stared at his manager expectantly, waiting for a reply. Waiting for a reaction, anything. The thing he received surprised him. Laughter.

-Oh, you almost got me there John.- Brian said between tiny laughs. -Very good.-

-I'm not fucking kiddin' Eppy!- He spat angrily, one hand slamming into the desk in front of him, sending papers flying all over the place. Brian looked at him strangely, like he had 3 heads. He was not laughing anymore.

-You can't possibly have me believe you suddenly turned queer John.-

 _'Bloody hell. Brian doesn't believe me. Good job Lennon, you're now officially screwed.'_ John sighed and let his head drop on the wood beneath it. Bang bang bang. _'I'm so screwed.'_

-John.- Brian stood up from his chair and placed a reassuring hand on John's shoulder. His thumb was trailing small circles affectionately and John shivered. His nerves were calming down slowly and he finally got his wits back. He hummed.

-Tell me what's wrong John.-

-Told ya already you stupid Jew.- He could hear Brian gasp at the term 'stupid Jew' and mentally kicked himself. He forgot how easily he could hurt the man. Brian stepped away from him and returned to his work place and John caught the sad look the manager gave him before he started organizing his papers.

-God Eppy, don't be such a bird, I was juss' joking.-

-I know John. A good joke, that was.- Brian replied coldly, not even looking at him anymore. His free hand was drumming a very fast, very aggressive tune. _'I pissed him off. Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do now? I can forget about the Lennon/McCartney credits on the next record.'_  
He took a deep breath. _'Think Lennon, think. How to cheer him up and then get him to help you?'_ After a minute or so John groaned in annoyance and rose up from his chair. He looked around, searching for something that could help him. _'Pencil, good, maybe I can stab him with it till he agrees.'_ An empty vase and some books. Nothing useful! Still, he caught something interesting. A photo album in the corner of the room.

John tiptoed to the item in question and hid it underneath his shirt while returning to his seat. He opened the little fat book and inspected the pictures in it. The very first page had a 'Me' on it with a very strange blond boy beneath it. The next few pages of it were filled with unknown faces, which John guessed belonged to Brian's family. There were notes all over the place but none caught John attention. But a picture of Brian in his army suit did. John felt a very uncomfortable twitch in an area a-little-to-low for his liking.

Next in line were pictures of themselves, The Beatles, or as Brian wrote 'The biggest thing the world has ever seen.' There were less notes in this part, but all of them were written in some weird language. John couldn't understand any of it. He stared at it for some time before deciding to flip the page.

'JOHN' said the big black letters on a blood red paper. The color hurt his eyes and he quickly turned the paper over. John smiled. It was a real gallery of his own pictures, some that he didn't even know existed. But the most interesting, and surprising thing, was that there was nothing next to them. No queer thoughts John expected, nothing. Some of these were intimate, tender. Shots of him recording, strumming his guitar carelessly in his bed, sleeping after a long night in one of Brian's chairs, no doubt after he came to him drunk and irritated. Memories of past few days flashed through his mind and the true reason of his late visit to Brian almost made him kick himself. The irony of the situation was just too sick.

He caught a pair of watchful, curious eyes staring at his back intensely. He could see unspoken questions struggling to get out. Amusement replaced John's previous foul mood and he returned the heavy book to its rightful place. He flashed his manager a shit eating grin before slowly approaching him, settling behind the confused man.

-What are you?...-

-Shush my dear Jewish princess.- He snickered at his own joke and he could see a pout forming on Brian's face. He placed his hands firmly on top of Brian's wide shoulders and pressed. Now, this wasn't something John liked to think of but he was very skilled at massaging. When Julia was still alive she taught him how to find tension-filled places and relieve them of stress. He remembered giving Paul a massage in Hamburg and the overly-excited and a bit too pleasurable reaction the lad gave him. Brian's muscles relaxed under his hands.

-Why do you do this to me John?-

-I don't know.- He rubbed a spot on Brian's neck and the man shuddered. A low pleased growl escaped from his mouth as John kept pressuring the place tentatively. Let us see how far can he go without moaning.

-Do you hate me?- Pause. A hard press. Moan.

-No.-

-Then why John?-

-I don't know Brian.- There was some truth in those words. He never intentionally hurt someone like he did Brian. It was always a mystery to John. Hurting the other man was sometimes his favorite thing to do.

-You know I didn't lie about what I said. I need your help.- John lowered his head and placed it on top of Brian's. The figure under him sucked in a nervous breath. _'So pathetic Lennon.'_

-How did this happen?-

-I...- _'Ate some weird magic cookies and got glued to George, suddenly got able to see ghosts and made out with one. My head is killing me and right now I only want to kiss you because you're beautiful. I might rape George in sleep, maybe even before Ringo here does. And it all makes perfect sense, see?'_

-It's a long story.-

-I've got time.-

-I can't tell you Bri, I just need you to fix me.-

-If I knew how, don't you think I would have fixed myself by now?-

-Please.-

-Maybe...- Brian started but silenced himself before anything got out.

-What?!- -Maybe you subconsciously want to… try it with another man.- Another sharp touch. Deep breath. John was no fool and he knew what the older one wanted. And the thing that scared him was the fact that he was willing to obey. Everything about Brian right now, his eyes, his lips, was beautiful. And John wanted everything.

-Fine, yeah.-

-What?-

-I said fine. Cure me.- Brian stared at him, didn't move, didn't speak, just stared at him, his mouth agape like a fish on dry. _'Isn't he going to do something?'_

-John, you know I would never do anything to you without your permission?-

-I'm giving it to ya now.-

-I don't want to do anything you might regret later.- Don't make this harder than it needs to be Eppy...

-I won't.- The manager smiled awkwardly and stood up, never breaking the intense eye contact. John's heart raced like wild. Brian placed his arms around John's neck slowly and the guitarist almost fainted. _'Fuck, what am I getting meself into?'_

-John...-

-Get on with it, would ya!-

And so he did, by closing the gap between them and sealing away any bits of fear John had with a simple peck on the lips. The contact was quick, as Brian pulled away immediately, million apologies no doubt already on thr tip of his tongue. John didn't care about that. _'My headache is gone. Only George could...but it is now. How did he do that?'_

-John...are you okay?- Brian asked carefully, clearly afraid of the current situation. John licked his lips and smiled. _'I want more. This is the first time in this week that I'm actually feeling good.'_

-Bri, you really need to shut up now.- John said softly before shoving Brian against the wall and roughly kissing and biting his lips. The older man's back cracked painfully but the only thing he heard was a little-too-loud moan.

Brian's cheeks were flushed in excitement and his hands, which were hanging awkwardly before, were now roaming across John's back, caressing every part of the beautiful man on him. They found their way under John's sweater which he tossed aside, exposing the pale skin. John was startled by the fact that Brian was getting his way and that something else would surely follow. Something John wasn't mentally or physically ready for.

-Shit.- John cursed as Brian's hands teased his nipples before a very slick tongue followed. A skilled hand slipped into his pants and rubbed him gently, as if asking if it was okay to do so. A low growl that escaped him confirmed the theory and the hand went in deeper, going with a steady rhythm. The roles were switching, and soon John found himself being pinned to the wall and simply unable to move. And the worst thing was that his cock was enjoying this even more than its owner.

-Bri-Brian...- The desperation in his voice annoyed him greatly. _'I'm moaning like a cheap whore here.'_ Their lips were inseparable, like magnets. John tried to get a hold of the situation, to establish his dominance but Brian was holding him on a tight leash, never letting him do anything but beg for more. He tried returning the favor but the man slapped his hand away. _'Brian, end this.'_

-Please...Brian...let me.-

-No, John, it's fine. Let me show you, yes?- And with that their lips were no longer glued together, as Brian started trailing light kisses along John's naked chest, which made the younger tremble in uncertainty. _'He wasn't going to...please, don't do it. I won't be able to…'_

-John, relax.- Brian stroked the sensitive area above John's pants, and started undoing his zipper slowly. He sighed as his hard-on was freed from all restraints. Brian, on his knees now, took one last long reassuring look at the little boy in front of him, the one which was trembling in fear and lust. _'Look at this, how did you get in this position Lennon? Sucking is good, but when did you forget how girls look? It's a man for fuck sakes!'_

Brian smiled as his lips parted, letting one pink tongue teasingly touch the base of John's dick. He soon started sucking slowly, agonizingly, from the tip to the base, before finally taking him whole. John moaned the man's name loudly, not even caring if someone would catch him in such an embarrassing state. His knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground, sending Brian down with him.

-We really should have used the bed.- John joked lightheartedly and tried standing up but the man on him kept him firmly on the floor. Brian gave him a smug smile, as if saying ''You couldn't even keep your balance.'', before kissing him gently. John felt a bitter-sweet taste spreading in his mouth but ignored it, not daring to spoil the moment, knowing fully well that it will not happen again.

-Eppy, won't ya finish the job?- John chuckled, now in peace with the ordeal. _'Let's enjoy it while we can, eh? Living in a moment and that shit, interesting.'_ Brian nodded, somehow still afraid that he will scare him off if he touches him. His hand moved to John's red, and now dripping with pre-cum, crotch and started pumping it slowly. John groaned helplessly, unable to resist the urge. _'Faster, come on.'_

As if he read his mind, the rhythm speed up and John knew that his first man-induced climax was not far away. His breath hitched and the pleads got louder, more urgent. Their lips still connected, tongues colliding in a playful matter.

This was not usual pleasure. John, a Beatle who has shagged countless lines of birds, should know what pleasure is. But this was different, stronger, more intense. This was a man, his manager, that was sending wild shocks through his whole system. _'It is the wrongest thing I have ever done, and yet, it feels so right. It was the true definition of freedom.'_

With an ear-ripping cry he came into Brian's hand violently, almost passing out right there on the spot, because of the sudden burst of energy that came over him. He was panting heavily, his eyes were tightly shut and a blissful smile was stretched across his face. In Brian's arms, there were no nightmares.


End file.
